by Prakash Rangarajan on January 1, 2011
It is 2011 already and the new year promises to be harbinger of change for me personally. In the middle of a short sabbatical, a period of introspection on this journey of life, spending quality time with family and growing stronger wings, I just cannot wait to get started to do the things I love this new year. There is so much to look forward to, following the clarion call of bigger dreams, writing more, getting back to playing some sport or the other, maybe a few treks to let the soul waltz, lots on the anvil actually.
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by Prakash Rangarajan on November 28, 2008
Time has a borrowed dream. Sacred and True. Hollow and pale. Borrowed in myth was this dream. For it was not its own nor reality borne. More a creation of its own fading footfalls and whispered heartbeats.
As seasons race and reasons gale, the journey of life has by itself become a pale painting of an abstract emotion. And mankind melts in silent stupor while begotten sons of earthly thought prevails to sculpt perfect misery on pallid races. Religions rule and gods brood and bloodshed beckons all humankind to dreamy despair.
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